


Retrace Your Steps

by thealphadog



Category: Avengers: Infinity War - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Death, Eye of Agamotto, I'M EMO, Infinity War spoilers, Multi, One Shot, Post- Avengers: Infinity War, Sacrifice, Time Travel, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphadog/pseuds/thealphadog
Summary: The one mission that Bucky regrets most, out of all others-December 16th 1991.Today, that regret changes.





	Retrace Your Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I'm so emo. So I wrote this a while back, but it was way shorter and not intended to be a one shot. 
> 
> I really like the concept of this and was happy I thought it up, so I wanted to go back and make it better. 
> 
> Also, who doesn't need some more sadness right now, after that shitshow of a movie? 
> 
> Sorry about this.

In a lot of circumstances, it was one moment where everything started going downhill. For James Buchanan Barnes, it was falling off of that moving train and not dying. That’s where everything went wrong;

 

Where his descent into being HYDRA’s slave began. Where the countless hours of serum being pumped inside his body, burning his mind, his bones, his skin; replacing the Bucky he and everyone else knew so well; turned him into a monster.

 

Out of all the missions, all of the killing, the torturing; the one mission that Bucky truly wishes he could change—

 

_December 16th, 1991._

 

Because that’s the day that Tony Stark’s life started going downhill.

 

It was the day that, after 24 years being in the dark to the one man that it truly effected, was the reason the Avengers truly wanted to kill each other. It was the reason that they were torn _apart_ —

 

And Bucky hadn’t stopped thinking about it since that day in Siberia, where Tony Stark looked at him like he was going to kill him and be happy about it, where he made Steve fight against his _friend_ , just for him. Where;

 

_It all went wrong._

 

Bucky knew that something big was coming, so did everyone else. Thanos wasn’t someone you could easily ignore. And they fought together, not because they _wanted_ to, not because the need to make up and be friends again was so huge that they simply couldn’t reunite with each other;

 

They did it because the world was on the line.

 

And because of them— the Avengers— The Wakandans— The Guardians— The countless other people who knew what was right—

 

_They saved the world._

 

But, it came with a price.

 

“Barnes,” Strange spoke seriously. “If you do this, there’s no telling whether or not Thanos will still rise. There’s no telling what will actually happen-,”

 

“I’m not worried about that,” Bucky tied up his hair in a scruffy bun. “He died saving me, saving them all. And now I need to do this for him.”

 

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from travelling back then, to the battle a little over six months ago—

 

Where Tony Stark saved his life, before having a fatal hit take his own in the blink of an eye. After the war, the nightmares didn’t stop. Everywhere he looked, Bucky couldn’t stop seeing their faces— Tony’s— Steve’s— Vision’s—

 

Because the truth was that _they were all gone._

 

All of them, apart from him, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker, and a few others from the second fight.

 

“This could change everything. This could—,” He paused, and sighed. “This could _kill you_ , you know.”

 

Bucky clenched his jaw.

 

“I didn’t kill Maria and Howard Stark,” He straightened out his sleeves, scratching some dirt off of his metal wrist. “The Winter Soldier did. But I didn’t do anything about it. Which makes me equally responsible.”

 

“Wait, _Barnes_ —,” Strange placed a firm hand against Bucky’s chest. “I’m not sending you back if you’re going to kill yourself. You- you _don’t understand_ what that’ll do to the space time continuum—,” Bucky snapped Strange’s hand away from him.

 

“ _Tony Stark died saving me_. _I_ killed his parents, _I_ got between the Avengers. You’re taking me back to 1991, no matter what.” Strange gulped. He always used to be a stoic man, mysterious and smart, too arrogant for his own good. But after Thanos— it was all too much. “If I stop myself killing Stark’s parents, stop myself from taking the other super soldier serum for HYDRA, _everything_ will change. For the better.”

 

“You _don’t know_ that—,”

 

“I know that I’m going to try, anyway.” Strange swiped the sweat off his forehead, his hands shakily handing Bucky the Eye of Agamotto. Strange had spent weeks teaching Bucky how to use it, how to channel the power of the stone. But he wouldn’t know how good he was until he actually tried it.

 

Bucky knew he probably had more than one shot to get it right— I mean, it was practically a time machine. But if he fucked up, if he made one wrong move with himself, he knew The Winter Soldier wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. And then nothing would change. Nothing would change apart from Bucky being gone, as well.

 

Bucky breathed heavily, his head was spinning uncontrollably.

 

He had to do this; he had to get it right.

 

For Stark; for Steve; for everyone. Because they deserved it. And Bucky didn’t deserve to live knowing he could have the chance to save them from breaking apart— he didn’t deserve to live at all after all he’d done, all he’d caused.

 

He shut his eyes, his thumbs circling the Eye of Agamotto rhythmically.

 

Steve smiled at up at him, his hair tussled and his jaw raw. Bucky swung his arm around his best friend’s shoulders and Steve winced, his hand coming up to his bruising jaw. “What do I keep telling you, huh?” Bucky chided.

 

“Don’t pick a fight with someone bigger than you?”

 

Buck chuckled.

 

“Yeah. And what do you go and do?”

 

Steve grinned.

 

“Pick a fight with someone bigger than me?”

 

“Bingo— you _idiot_.”

 

The two of them walked through the snowy streets of Brooklyn in the dwindling light, Buck donned his army uniform. He was leaving for the 107th division in a little over two weeks.

 

“But you can’t say I don’t give you great advice too, Buck,” Steve added, as the two of them walked up the steps to Bucky’s place.

 

“Hm?” Bucky knew what he was going to say, and a grin spread across his face.

 

“If you’ve lost something, the best thing to do is always—,”

 

Bucky opened his eyes. The Eye of Agamotto shone a bright shade of green.

 

“Retrace your steps.”

 

Bucky knew this road, this route. It’d been drilled inside his head countless times, ready for his mission to kill the Stark’s and return to headquarters with the four other serum packets.

 

It’s what Zemo had asked about when he’d infiltrated the government base.

 

It’s what Tony had seen on that screen in Siberia, what Steve had managed to coax out of Bucky a few days after he came around from Zemo.

 

Him killing the Stark’s— Him creating another four Winter Soldiers.

 

Bucky hid himself in the trees opposite where he knew he’d waited 24 years before, on the motorbike. The Eye of Agamotto hung around his neck tightly, ready for if he needed to pull himself back to reality of not. Once he did, people who had witnessed the travel would forget it immediately. That’s what made the Time Stone seamless—

 

And dangerous in the wrong hands.

 

Was he really doing this? Was he really on this same road, this same time, this same plain, where took the life from two people who were so essential to Tony Stark’s life?

 

He was going to answer own question, but then the sound of a motorbike accelerating hit his ears; The Winter Soldier’s arm glinted in the dim light across from him, and Bucky held in his own breath.

 

Howard’s 1987 Mercedes drove into view;

 

And both Bucky’s sprang into action.

 

He saw himself then— but it wasn’t really him, was it. It was his soulless alter ego, his anti-hero beneath the surface of his skin.

 

That’s what he used to be, before Wakanda, before they got all that bad shit out of him, for _good._

 

Strange asked him how he’d do it— how he’d be able to battle with himself.

 

“It’s not me. The person who killed Stark’s parents _isn’t me._ ”

 

Even when Bucky plummeted in front of the Winter Soldier’s motorbike, kicking his double in the face—

 

It was his face; his hair; his expression; _him._

 

But he felt no emotional attachment. _No_ remorse. _No_ guilt, for what he was about to do to himself.

 

Howard’s car continued on, though Buck could see Stark had seen them— the _both_ of them— through his rear-view mirror. If anything, Stark had immediately sped up, his wife gasping in the passengers seat as she looked behind her at the two Bucky’s fighting.

 

The Winter Soldier skidded on the tarmac, his motorbike crashing into a tree and exploding without hesitation. It set the wood on fire, the burning smell of smoke and ash hitting Bucky’s nose once more—

 

And suddenly he was back in Wakanda, back in the place where he’d disappeared to _dust._

 

The whole time he’d been in the Soul realm, it hadn’t stopped smelling like ash. The very air was dirty, and tasted like soot. After he’d got out, everyone had discovered that the realm had inter-dimensions. Ones that separated people for unknown categorical reasons.

 

The only person Bucky had been with in his own dimension—

 

_Sam Wilson._

 

Bucky ducked as the Winter Soldier threw a punch straight at his temple, his old metal arm almost taking a huge chunk of skin right off his face. If there was one advantage to going back in time, it was his upgraded arm. Made completely of vibranium, the same stuff as T’Challa’s suit, the same as Steve’s old shield, it was _unstoppable._

 

Bucky parried with himself, catching the soldier’s metal arm with his. For a moment their strength matched— the soldier held on. And then Bucky pulled off the soldier’s mask—

 

It was _him_ , no doubt about it. The soldier visibly grinned, like he didn’t care that the was fighting himself, like he knew this would happen. Because that’s what the serum did; it _stripped_ Bucky of himself with every mission. It was exactly how Crossbones had put it—

 

_“… before they put his brain back in a blender.”_

 

The Winter Soldier smiled once more, as the two of them were locked in a never-ending arm wrestle. He spat on the floor once, and stared right at Bucky—

 

“We become good?” The soldier said, but it didn’t sound malicious, it didn’t sound wrong— it sounded _forced._ Like something was trying to hold the words back.

 

It was _himself_ — his _younger, real self._

 

“We won’t become anything.” Bucky replied. Because if one thing was for certain; neither of them would be coming out alive from this.

 

It’s specifically what Strange was afraid of; Bucky dying.

 

If his older self was killed, then the Winter Soldier would still win, he’d still go after Stark, and he’d still succeed. But if Bucky killed his younger self— They would cease to exist past that moment, past that date.

 

_December 16th 1991—_

 

_The day James Buchanan Barnes died._

 

The Winter Soldier broke free of the tussle, sending a punch straight to Bucky’s ribs. But then his face changed— it looked pained.

 

He looked— Devastated. Trapped. Damaged.

 

In one swoop, the Winter Soldier punched himself in the face with his metal arm. The disheveled shell of the real James Buchanan Barnes had broken free— and he was _killing himself._

 

All Bucky could do was watch as he destroyed himself.

 

But this was the intention from the beginning; it was only unfolding in a different way.

 

From his back pocket, Bucky plucked out a hand gun.

 

He approached the Winter Soldier as he lay on the floor, his face in ruins, his body bruising, all because of himself. Kneeling to the ground, Bucky’s eyes began to well, his heart plummeted to the bottom of his gut.

 

The Winter Soldier grabbed Buck buy his collar, but not threateningly. He was breathing heavily; _both_ of them; their breaths almost synchronised, their eyes finally the same reflection of one another.

 

“You here to kill me?” His younger self breathed out. Bucky stared at his own face, one that he used to know so well, before he was manipulated by HYDRA.

 

Bucky fiddled with the gun in his hands, his tears covering his face now. He nodded once, fast and short, without taking his eyes off of himself.

 

“Do it.”

 

Buck had no clue what this would do to the Time Stone; what this would do to the world.

 

But one thing was for certain; _it would change Tony Stark’s future_. It would mean he wouldn’t become an orphan at 21 years old. It would mean Tony wouldn’t jump in front of Thanos’s fist to save him—

 

“ _Do it._ ” James repeated to his older self; his wiser self, Bucky had _first_ thought. But even under HYDRA’s serum, James Buchanan Barnes knew what was best.

 

Bucky clutched the gun tightly, pressing his forehead against the forehead of himself.

 

He wasn’t shaking anymore; he wasn’t _anything_ ; he was freeing himself, and many others, from dying a horrible death; from living in a world without the people he loved the most—

 

_He was giving Tony Stark his family back; his life back._

 

Buck held the gun to the back of his 1991 self’s head, and without another beat, without any hesitation—

 

He pulled the trigger towards a brighter world.

 


End file.
